Wy’east in the West


Wy’east lies dormant,
a Cascadian jewel.
Her fingers grasp the Trail.

Brothers to the north,
Sisters to the south,
atop a fault now frail.

Shining in the twilight,
shadows lean and leer,
at her blush of bare repose.

Her triggered temblor,
her wrath erupting,
onto Willamette greens below.

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